


Leave you as you are

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cal and Jiaying, Coulson can be a wee bit pathetic, DEEP SHIT, F/M, Implied FitzMack, Nightmares, Question of free will, Skye is the only Marvel Superhero, Skye loves Coulson, Skye | Daisy Johnson Feels, angst angst angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye has always understood that Coulson would put himself and his job on the line for her, but after being haunted by the ordeal of her parents and dealing with questions from the council, she starts to question why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this isn't suuuper happy? But it will be? Eventually?  
> It's something I've been working on since before SkoulsonFest that I've been tinkering with forever, so I needed to get some of it out here soon otherwise it will drive me bananas.
> 
> Title is from "Into My Arms" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

_This isn’t right._

Coulson ran through the halls, his weapon not even drawn. He breathed heavily, looking back as if he sensed he was being followed. Ducking down another hallway, he finally took his gun out of its holster, peeking around a corner.

No one was there.

“Skye,” he muttered quietly, continuing down the hall. The building was eerily quiet, the old furnishings and architecture increasing the feeling of dread.

_Where…?_

Coulson looked back again, but didn’t see anyone behind him. Then, nearby. His head darted up.

A sound.

Something heavy hitting the floor.

“Skye!” He ran down the twisting halls, the sharp corners, finally entering a room.

_No._

He looked at the young woman lying face down on the floor, her hair fanned around her. Like she was sleeping.

_No._

_It’s not real._

Coming out of his frozen state, Phil ran forward. “No, no, no,” he muttered, kneeling next to her. His hands darted over her prone body, not sure what to do.

_It’s not real._

His mouth let out a flurry of her name and every desperate plea he could think of. He stumbled over half-formed thoughts, muttering endless loops of ‘please,’ and ‘no,’ and, of course, ‘Skye.’ Placing one hand on the sleeve of her leather jacket and the other behind her back, he turned her over, pulling her into his arms.

_She’s not--_

“Hello, Agent Coulson.” The woman lying on the floor was not Skye. He stared at her face, dumbstruck. After all, it was so like Skye’s, but so very different. Then he gasped sharply, looking down.

_No!_

Jiaying pulled the sharp crystal out from under his vest where she had stabbed him, and the world seemed to go gray.

 _Coulson!_ As the man fell back onto the floor, Skye continued screaming at him, desperate cries he couldn’t hear.

 _It’s not real, she’s not me!_ Tears ran down the face he couldn’t see, as she knelt and placed hands he couldn’t feel on his chest.

 _Please,_ she begged, horror rising in her gut as she watched his body begin to turn to stone, radiating from the point where the crystal had hit.

She had tried to stop him, chasing him through the halls, but it was as if she didn’t exist. _Oh no, Coulson._ He turned his head, and for one desperate moment she thought he’d finally heard her. But he was not looking at Skye. He stared across the room, where her mother stood. The resemblance was uncanny, except every visible scar had become an open wound.

Watching with a sick fascination as his body turned to stone, Skye heard a pained whisper leave his lips.

_Coulson? What--_

“S--” He began, wincing in pain she couldn’t imagine. “Sk--”

 _No, no no,_ Skye begged, shaking her head.

“ _Skye_?” He asked her mother, his voice tinged with betrayal and hurt.

Coulson was gone.

 _Coulson was gone_ and he died thinking Skye had destroyed him.

Skye shook with grief and rage, but her mother just shook her head, kneeling next to her.

 _How could you do this?_ She asked, her voice sounding like she was underwater. Jiaying seemed to hear her, but looked down at Coulson, at  _what was once Coulson._

“He lost himself,” she said gravely. “To a promise he made you.”

Skye opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

***

“ _Jesus_ ,” a voice called out, and Skye sat upright quickly. “You nearly took my head off!” Hunter complained, looking down at the shattered remains of her vase. A dozen wilting daisies littered the floor.

“Sorry, I--” Skye gathered her thoughts quickly, trying to catch her breath without being too obvious. “Maybe don’t disturb me on the one morning I get to sleep in?” Peeved was always a good default in these situations, a good way to let her tension out without giving anything away. She would prefer not to be in the situation at all, but the nightmares were becoming a disturbing trend.

“Yeah, well, sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep but the Director met with the council and needs to speak with you.”

Of course, the council. They had been speaking with Coulson regularly over the last couple of weeks, which happened to coincide with the arrival of her Mommy Dearest nightmares. “Why does he need to speak with me?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Maybe Hunter, who simply shrugged--still looking annoyed over the near-head injury--wasn’t curious, but everyone else certainly was. Andrew, May, said council of advisers Coulson agreed to work with to run SHIELD. Even Simmons, after being returned to them had a look of surprise and curiosity when she realized how much say Skye had in the plan to get her back.

It wasn’t as if it was super strange for her to take on a leadership role. Apart from a couple dark periods, Coulson had always trusted Skye to plan and execute important aspects of the mission.

Everyone else seemed more concerned with the “why?” _Why_ had he trusted Skye so much, so early? Especially after the ordeal with the Inhumans?

Was he making the right decision? Was he biased, siding with Skye more often than not? Did he prefer her input because she was his protege, or some other connection?

Skye sighed, shooing Hunter out of her room. “I’ll be there in five,” she told him, and he muttered a sarcastic ‘ _thank you_ ,’ before closing the door behind him.

Skye could give a damn whatever relationship the council thought she and Coulson had. She couldn’t care less how they felt about their closeness, because she knew that Coulson trusted her for the right reasons.

At least...she thought she knew.

Throwing on some clean clothes, Skye couldn’t help but feel uneasy as she got ready for their meeting. The dreams about Jiaying, about Coulson dying because of her, it wasn’t a coincidence they had been happening lately.

After eavesdropping-- _accidentally overhearing_ \--one of the earlier meetings with Weaver, Coulson, May and even Andrew, Skye realized that the main concern wasn’t just that his relationship with Skye was inappropriate, or that her role was built on favoritism. _Some people_ certainly thought that, she realized, almost bursting in on the meeting to give them a piece of her mind.

She held back though, let Coulson tersely assure them that wasn’t the case. But that wasn’t their only concern, she found out.

The night after that meeting, after ducking away from Coulson’s office before they caught her, Skye had her first nightmare.

They weren’t worried Coulson was being impartial. They were afraid he was being _influenced_.

By her.

***

“Skye,” Coulson greeted her as she walked into his office. “I wanted to run something by you,” he said, waving her over to his desk. Walking over, Skye looked at the file in his hands. In it there were a few newspaper clippings, a couple photos, and a map with some points plotted out in red. “Koenig has been keeping an eye on unusual occurrences in local newspapers, and he noticed something we should look into.”

“Which Koenig?” Skye asked, and Coulson shrugged sheepishly. Grinning, Skye took a closer look at the map. “Do we think it’s the same person?” Scanning through the articles, she picked up on a few key phrases, like ‘bridge collapse,’ ‘no reported injuries,’ and, her favorite, ‘the van was mysteriously flipped on its side.’ _Super strength maybe? Fantastic._

“Soonest I can probably go is tomorrow, at this point,” she offered. “Get Koenig--any Koenig--to book me a flight and I can check it out, report back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Coulson replied, stacking everything neatly again and closing the file. “We’re taking Lola. May has already approved the trip, as long as _you’re_ okay with missing your afternoon brawl,” he joked, but Skye frowned.

“You’re coming?” She asked, then winced at the slightly offended face he made in response. “I just mean-- I can probably handle it for now, you don’t have to come if you’re, you know, busy.”

Coulson’s squared his shoulders, and Skye could see that she had _definitely_ offended him. She couldn’t help it, with the dreams and the council, and now Coulson deciding more and more often to abandon his own duties to work on the Caterpillars project? On _her_ project? He had to know how it looked, right?

“I mean, the last couple trips have been dead ends anyway, there’s no reason we both need to play hooky.” She was scrambling. Coulson seemed to pick up on that-- _because of course he would_ \-- because his face became one of confused concern, and she was a goner, wasn’t she?

“Is everything okay, Skye?” He asked, stepping closer.

She sighed, running a hand through her recently-sheared hair. A flash of her dream, of her mother's long hair fanned around her face. Skye suppressed a shudder. “Yeah, it’s just-- the council has been so up your butt lately about this kind of stuff--sorry,” she apologized at his disturbed expression. “So I can’t imagine they’ll be too excited to see you...jet off with me for a day.” She cringed at the phrasing, somewhat convinced she had heard it in one of her not-eavesdropping sessions.

Expecting annoyance, Skye was surprised by the feel of his hand softly resting on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly, imploring her to make eye contact. She relented, but the guilt and concern she saw made her immediately regret it. He knew. He knew exactly what she was implying, what had been implied for months now. “I--” he started, and Skye could see that he was uncomfortable, and she hated everyone else for a moment because of it. “I didn’t realize-- of course it bothers you, I should have…” He trailed off, frustrated.

“It’s fine,” Skye said, but Coulson shook his head.

“No, it’s not. It’s not right that they can make you feel--That they’re undermining your role. Acting like…”

_Like I’ve got you ‘wrapped around my little finger?’_

“It’s okay, Coulson, really,” she said instead, seeing from the way his lips pursed that he didn’t agree. “I know what we’re working on is important, and keeping it under wraps, keeping the other Inhumans safe is more important than whatever other people might think.”

It was a lie, sort of. From the difficulty Coulson was having expressing feelings on the issue, his main concern was that Skye felt devalued or uncomfortable that the other higher-ups had suspicions about their relationship. That was annoying, obviously, but not Skye’s ultimate fear. After seeing what happened to her parents, after hearing from everybody else what lengths Coulson had gone to keep her safe and help her...From her point of view, it was always reciprocal. Coulson saved her, she saved Coulson, she would do anything for him.

But she wasn’t the Director of SHIELD.

“Give me 30 minutes and I’ll meet you in the garage?” She asked, and Coulson smiled. Happily.

 _Obediently_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye opens up about her dreams, and the fears at the root of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned this isn't super happy?  
> But it will be! Maybe. One day.

“What have I done?”

Skye slipped into consciousness slowly, drawn out of sleep by the soft whisper by her head. The hand combing through her hair.

“I’m so sorry.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. The hand in her hair wasn’t warm and gentle. It was cold, clammy. Sticky with something that smelled like copper.

“ _I’m so sorry, Skye.”_

Forcing her eyes to open, Skye looked around as the blurry scene came into focus. The room was dark, but she could see the shiny metal of tools, glinting in low lamplight. The air was damp, like a basement of some sort.

Next to her was a bed. No, a gurney. She was on an operating table.

Inhaling a sharp, quick gasp, Skye forced her mind to _wake up._

“What have I done?”

Skye lolled her head to the side, toward the shaking hand that was combing frantically through her hair, pulling it almost. She wished she didn’t.

Coulson was there, but he looked _wrong_. His white shirt was filthy, covered in blood. _Whose_? His eyes were red rimmed, his face unshaven and gaunt.

His eyes darted wildly from her head, to her abdomen, then back up to look her in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have--” He muttered, moving his hand up to his own hair, running through it violently. His left arm ended in a stump, wrapped in dirty bandages.

“What--” Skye gasped, trying to sit up, _needing_ to find out what was going on. “What happened, Coulson?” She asked, beginning to panic when she couldn’t move. “Where are we, what’s--”

A glint off to the side caught her eye, and she moved her head as best as she could to get a look. Next to the head of her bed was a rusty metal table, a toolkit resting on its surface.

 _I’ve seen that before,_ she thought, _but not like this_. Not shining with blood. Not freshly used. Not with a small syringe marked “GH 325” next to it.

She knew what had happened.

“Coulson,” she told him urgently, trying and failing to catch his attention. “Coulson, you saved my life.” She tried to smile at him, make him understand. “You saved me.”

The words seemed to hit him like a bucket of cold water. He paused his frantic motions and stared at her. “I was desperate to,” he whispered.

 _What have I done?_ Skye thought, looking at the broken man in front of her. He brought her back, but at what cost? What part of himself did he lose just to keep her alive?

“Why?” She asked, not wanting to know the answer.

Coulson looked away, looked over at the bloody collection of scalpels and medical tools. At the empty syringe, with just a hint of blue liquid coating the inside of the glass.

“It told me to.”

***

“Skye-- whoa!”

Skye’s eyes snapped open as she got the breath knocked out of her, nearly getting thrown off of her feet.

Her first instinct was to struggle, but feeling a pair of arms tighten around her middle, keeping her from falling to the ground, she looked around, confused. Mack was standing there, holding her upright. He looked alarmed to say the least.

“You okay, Tremors?” The nickname, she noted wryly, was doubly appropriate at the moment. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking, even as she took in her surroundings. Standing upright on wobbly legs, she nodded to Mack that he could let her go. He did, carefully.

“What did I--? What happened?” Leaning back against the wall, Skye looked around to make sure no one else had seen whatever had just occurred. She was right outside of the common room. _I must have fallen asleep on the couch,_ she thought, seeing the papers she’d been looking at strewn all over the floor.

“You tell me,” Mack replied, still looking extremely concerned despite his calming voice. “I was walking by and you came barrelling out of the room like a bat outta hell.”

“That’s new,” Skye muttered, bits and pieces coming back to her. In her nightmare--she shivered just thinking about it--she couldn’t move at all. She must have woken up in a panic and bolted. “It’s fine,” she told him, but he looked unconvinced. “Really, I fell asleep, must have had a bad dream and started sleepwalking. _Running_.”

“And this hasn’t happened before?” He gleaned, and Skye shook her head.

“All the years I spent sleeping in a van? I would hope not,” she joked, and Mack gave her a strained smile. “Thanks for, you know. The impromptu trust fall.”

Mack nodded, but put a hand on her arm when she went to walk away.

“Want to grab a beer?”

***

“So there’s nothing going on with you two?” Mack asked, and Skye rolled her eyes.

“Not what everyone thinks,” she replied, taking a pull from her beer bottle. The pub they’d found was blissfully empty--as they tended to be shortly after noon on a weekday--so they could gossip and talk shop without worrying too much about being overheard.

He nodded. “So it’s just the _side project_ that’s got them on your case? Nothing more?”

Skye tilted her head, conceding the point. “No comment,” she said, and Mack scoffed. “No, I mean--Some members of the council, and our team I guess, think that Coulson and I are--”

“Sleeping together?”

Skye almost choked. “Ah, well, none of them have said as much, but--”

“Not to you,” Mack muttered, and Skye frowned.

“Great, whispering behind our backs, that’s much more professional.” Her tone was sarcastic, but the worry began to eat away at her stomach. So this was _a thing_. Something people talked about. A joke.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Mack said, looking genuinely guilty seeing her distraught. “Look, if anyone sees what you’ve done for SHIELD and thinks your role is based on anything other than that, they’re not worth your concern.”

Smiling slightly, Skye knocked her shoulder lightly against Mack’s in thanks. She knew that heart-to-hearts weren’t exactly his thing. Working together had brought them closer, which was especially impressive considering where they were after San Juan and the ordeal with the Inhumans. _Speaking of…_

“So what, you don’t think Coulson and I are distracted by the alien messages in our heads?” She laughed, but Mack seemed to hear the underlying nervousness.

“Do _you_?”

Looking back at the door to the bar, then to her companion, Skye shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, taking another drink. “Are you going to report me to the committee?” She asked wryly, and Mack sighed.

“Keep talking and we’ll see,” he told her, but Skye knew it wasn’t a threat.

“I know how I feel,” she admitted, looking at her hands. “Every move I’ve made, I can come up with a reason for it. I infiltrated SHIELD because I needed to learn about my parents. I stuck with SHIELD because they’re my family, and they’re doing good work. I helped the Inhumans--to a degree-- because I understood that they needed help.” Tapping her fingers against the bar, she continued.

“I have stuck with Coulson, helped Coulson, because he’s important. Not just to me, but to SHIELD. He’s in a position to do a lot of good, and who knows what would happen if he was--” She didn’t need to finish. “That all makes sense to me. But Coulson…”

“You’re not so sure.”

Skye made a frustrated noise.

“ _No one_ is sure.” Ever since she’d joined the team, Coulson had been trusting her or learning to trust her, putting his faith in her. And all along the way people were wondering ‘why?’ “I don’t know, maybe he sees himself in me, and he wants me to do well. Maybe I was the only person who wasn’t put on his team deliberately.”

“And maybe the alien blood in his system is telling him to keep you close,” Mack finished. Skye was glad she didn’t have to be the one to say it. “But that’s not what’s bothering you.”

Skye snorted. “Right, it doesn’t bother me that the person I care about more than anyone else, our whole relationship might be based on some weird cosmic alien compulsion.”

Mack shrugged. “If it was just about Coulson being drawn to you because of that and only that, you would accept it. You wouldn’t push, that’s not how you operate. You’d settle, _even if you shouldn’t_ , because you want what’s best for him.”

Skye chugged the rest of her beer. Maybe that whole “getting closer” thing was a mistake. He was becoming too observant for his own good. Signaling the bartender for another round, Skye leaned on her elbow, looking at Mack. “Go on,” she said, pointing her fresh beer at him.

Mack sighed, peeling the label off his bottle. “Your priority is Coulson, so if it was just a matter of him having questionably deep faith in you, it wouldn’t be a problem. You’re worried it’s hurting him.”

 _Well, shit._  

Skye sighed. “Well. Hats off to you, Sir,” she mock-toasted Mack, who rolled his eyes.

“You want to tell me why you’re so worried about that? Last I checked, the man was no longer out of his mind carving alien messages into the walls.”

“He’s not,” Skye reassured him, and Mack looked relieved. “I just-- I’ve been having these dreams. Do you know what happened to my parents?”

Mack seemed taken aback by the tangent, but nodded. “I’ve heard the general outline. Whitehall--” He grimaced. Skye almost forgot, Mack had seen those files. The films. She wondered if her mother was somewhere in there.

“My dad brought her back. He brought her back, but she came back wrong. And he…” _Was destroyed because of it._ “He was so devoted to her.”

“And this is sounding familiar to you.”

She couldn’t tell if Mack believed it, if he thought she was onto something or being paranoid. But he made the connection, didn’t he?

“What if I came back wrong?” Skye asked quietly. “What if his need to save me--”

“From what I’ve heard, the two of you were close way before you were shot,” Mack argued, but Skye shook her head.

“That doesn’t matter, because I never knew him before the GH 325 was in his blood. The moment we met, he had Kree DNA. Kree, the alien race that created the Inhumans. He let me in right then and there, and it’s only gotten worse.”

Coulson had always trusted her, even after she admitted her personal mission to him. Then she was shot, and that trust turned into devotion that jeopardized their team. Then she transformed, and he was ruled unfit to lead SHIELD because of the way he protected her.

She’d been ruining him since the day they met.

“You know there’s another possibility here, right?” Mack asked, looking surprisingly chill for someone sitting with the woman who would probably destroy the Director of SHIELD. “Another possible reason why he would ‘get worse’ after getting to know you, and going through--pardon my French--crazy shit with you?”

“That would almost be worse,” Skye muttered, and Mack sighed.

“Well, I’m not sure what I can tell you,” he said, finishing his drink.

_Tell me I’m wrong._

_Tell me that when the time comes, he’ll take care of himself, not me._

But Mack wasn’t a liar.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not feeling quite better after her discussion with Mack, Skye confronts the man himself.

Skye sighed, feeling his lips burning against the skin of her neck. Was he overheated, or was that just her? Gripping the back of his head, her fingers closing tightly around strands of his hair, Skye urged him upward, until his mouth was finally on hers.

Coulson made this growling noise that shot straight between her legs, and Skye became impatient. Flipping them over until Coulson was on his back, she leaned down and captured his lips with hers, her hands running up his chest, then sliding up his arms until they were locked around his wrists. Pulling away to get a look at him, Skye grinned. His face was flushed, and his eyes looked up at her, wide and blue and adoring.

“Are we really going to do this?” Skye asked, one hand moving slyly downward to cup his groin. Coulson groaned, moving his hips to meet her. “You sure?” She asked innocently. He nodded eagerly and said something, his voice too breathless for her to make it out. “I’m sorry, what was that?” She traced one finger down the length of him, and Coulson gasped, his head shooting upward to look her in the eye.

“' _I’d do anything for you_ ,’” he repeated, and Skye realized with horror that he meant it.

***

“ _Skye_.”

Skye shot upward, startled. “Wha--” she asked, her mouth not quite ready to form words yet. Coming to, she realized she had fallen asleep at her desk in Coulson’s office.

It wasn’t as though she was a slacker; she was unable (unwilling?) to fall asleep that night, so she went up to the office in the wee hours of the morning to get some work done. She had somewhat succeeded, but the small drool mark on the folder in front of her was not reassuring. Wiping the side of her mouth Skye looked up at Coulson, who was standing next to her, concerned.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled, trying in vain to straighten everything on the desk, “needed some shut eye I guess.”

“I heard you’ve had trouble sleeping,” he responded, and Skye sighed, irritated.

“Mack--”

“And Hunter,” Coulson corrected. “And May, and--”

“I get it,” Skye snapped, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead, hard. Coulson placed a hand on her shoulder, and Skye saw his expression soften. “Shit,” she said. Out loud. Coulson frowned.

“Have I done something wrong?” He asked, causing Skye to stand up and begin to walk out. She couldn’t deal with this right now. “Skye,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Hold on, what’s going on here?”

His voice wasn’t demanding, because of course it wasn’t. How could he ever demand something from her, when she was the one who-- “Just _stop_ ,” she asked, unsure if she meant him or her train of thought. “Stop doing _that_.” Watching her carefully, Coulson moved over to the office door, shutting it. She hadn’t realized it was open.

_If anyone heard any of that they’re probably going to have a field day._

“Tell me what’s going on, Skye,” Coulson sort-of asked, his tone not leaving much room for refusal.

S _o what, we’re going to fight now?_ Maybe that would fix it. Maybe all she needed was for him to hate her, then he’d be safe from whatever she might lead him to do.

But that wasn’t what she wanted, and it wasn’t something she could ever do. ‘ _Selfish_ ,’ a cruel voice whispered in her head, and it wasn’t wrong.

“You need to stop prioritizing me over everything else,” she told him, blunt. Coulson’s eyebrows shot up.

“Is this because of the council? Skye, I told you not to worry about that, what they think--”

“It’s not about that,” she interrupted, beginning to pace. “Not completely, anyway. Do you ever wonder, Coulson, why everyone is so worried about that?”

The director looked uncomfortable for a moment, but pushed it down. “They’re being paranoid, Skye, SHIELD is always going to worry about where leadership’s loyalties lie, they have to after everything they’ve been through.”

Skye shook her head. He was missing the point. “Are you more loyal to SHIELD, or to me?” She asked, and Coulson looked downright stunned. “If you had to choose, would you choose SHIELD, or me?”

“I--” Coulson was at a loss.

“That shouldn’t even be a question, Coulson, don’t you see that? You should absolutely, 100% choose SHIELD, but you can’t and you don’t even know why.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, watching as his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Skye, what are you talking about?” His voice was quiet, in a way that made her chest ache with guilt. But she needed to do this, he had a right to know.

“All of this time, you’ve been on my side, even when you shouldn’t have,” she told him, and the look on his face showed he had no objections to that point. “Don’t you ever wonder about that? Don’t you ever wonder if the fact that the DNA in your system comes from the same species that--”

“It’s not that, Skye,” Coulson said emphatically, sounding tired.

“How do you know?” She stopped, standing directly in front of him. “You don’t know, because from the moment you met me you had the GH serum in your blood, and everything in your life has gone downhill ever since.”

Coulson stared at her, shellshocked. “You really think that?” His voice was breathless, like she had just punched him in the stomach. Skye felt like she had taken a hit to the gut as well. Why was she saying these things to Coulson? What was this going to fix?

She didn’t know, but she also couldn’t handle being his downfall anymore. Skye started to walk away, but felt Coulson grab her arm none-too-gently. If she wanted to she could break free, or throw him across the room even, but she would never do that to him. She waited.

“We’re not done here,” Coulson told her sharply, before letting go of her arm. “Skye, I _died_ before we met. I was stabbed through the heart and then had my head opened up and my brain toyed with. Do you really think you could have made my life _worse_?”

As she opened her mouth to respond, Skye heard a knock at the door. She and Coulson both started. He took a breath.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open and Mack peeked his head in. “Hey, I was looking for Skye? I have some modifications I want her to look at,” he explained, waving a roll of blueprints. “Do you have a minute?”

Skye nodded, not looking at Coulson before giving her response. It was an easy out, she wasn’t about to miss it. “Yeah, I’ll take a look,” she told him, walking to the door.

“Skye,” Coulson said, and Skye took just a hint of a breath before turning around. “Come see me when you’re done.”

“Coulson--”

“That’s an order, not a request,” he told her, tetchily. He moved back to his desk to sit. “You’re dismissed,” he said, opening a file and not looking up.

For a second she felt annoyed, not liking his tone, especially in front of Mack.

But then she was just relieved. He was telling her what to do. Not asking her what he could.

***

“That didn’t sound good,” Mack observed and Skye made a frustrated noise in response.

“You had some blueprints you wanted me to look at?” Skye asked pointedly, crossing her arms. Mack lifted up the roll in his hands.

“These? Oh, no these aren’t for you,” he said, unrolling the sheets a bit. Annoyed, but curious, Skye leaned in to see what was on them.

_Really?_

“Is that a _monkey_?”

Mack rolled the blueprints back up, looking an odd mix of proud and embarrassed. “Turbo has a birthday coming up,” he said nonchalantly, and Skye raised an eyebrow.

“So naturally you’re building him a robot monkey.”

“I fixed the Director’s car,” Mack countered, slightly defensive.

“Yeah, well, you did cut off his hand.” The look Mack gave her said it all, so she shrugged. “Fine. Have you even built a robot before?”

Mack sighed, unrolling the prints again slightly. “Not quite, but it might be good to start small, right?”

Skye quirked her lips. She wasn’t sure that’s how it worked, but they were venturing awfully close to ‘hey wasn’t the mini Lola you used to spy on Coulson _technically_ a robot?’ territory so maybe it was time to back down a bit.

“It’s a really nice gift, Mack,” she said, leaning against the wall. It wasn’t right for her to take out her frustrations on Mack, who basically just stopped her from probably saying something she’d regret to Coulson. She couldn’t help it, she just got so...riled up about it.

Mack shrugged. “When you care about someone, you want to do something nice for them, right? Even if it makes things difficult for you.”

Skye groaned. “Is this going to be a lecture?”

“Hear me out,” Mack argued, looking down the hall before steering Skye into the empty kitchen. “I don’t think you’re giving Coulson enough credit,” Mack said, and though she was inclined to argue, the part of Skye’s brain that always put Coulson’s well-being first forced her to listen.

 _Dammit Mack._ He knew her patterns. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough. Look, I don’t like the idea this alien influence stuff any more than you do, for reasons that should be fairly obvious.” Skye nodded. No explanation necessary. “But you saw how he was with those symbols, the lengths he went to to figure it out. Do you really think he would just sit back and let himself be controlled all this time?”

Skye sighed. “I don’t know,” she pressed the heels of her hands to her brow.

“But you’re worried that you’ll end up like your folks,” he asked, and Skye groaned.

“I _don’t know_ ,” she ground out, and she could hear a pot begin to rattle on the stove. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. “Does it matter?” She pictured her father, at his worst. Tried to imagine the kind of person he was before, how he had gotten to that point.

“Kind of, yeah,” Mack retorted. “Because I haven’t known that man as long as you have but I have a feeling if you asked him to kill a bunch of people just because you wanted him to, he’d have some objections.”

“Okay, but it’s not--” Skye argued, but trailed off. “I’m not-- I know he’s not Cal, and I’m not _her_ , okay?” _Or what she turned into._ Mack crossed his arms.

“So you’re either assuming that he has no free will of his own, or he’s so devoted to you that he’d put himself and everyone else at risk.”

Skye bit her lip.

“Well when you put it like that,” she muttered. Had she really been giving Coulson so little credit?

“Do you remember when lost Hartley?”

Skye swallowed heavily.

“Getting the obelisk.” _Which would transform me into--_

“Getting the _quinjet_ ,” Mack corrected, and Skye was startled to realize he was right. “He made a tough call, put everyone at risk to get that plane. Including you. For SHIELD.” Mack placed a hand on her shoulder. “When he sent Gonzales to Afterlife instead of going himself, he broke his agreement with you to appease the council.”

“So you’re saying I need to keep my ego in check,” Skye said dryly, but Mack shook his head.

“I’m saying that he has a lot of shitty decisions to make. You’re at the center of _a lot_ of them,” he conceded, and Skye rolled her eyes. “But not all of them. And maybe you’re in the middle of all of it because he cares about you, maybe more than he should. But you’ll never be able to figure that out if you assume he’s a mindless zombie with impaired judgement.”

She winced. 

“What do I do? What would _you_ do?” She asked, and saw Mack’s eyes flicker to the blueprints in his other hand.

“I would listen, don’t assume you know what he’s thinking. Hear him out,” he told her, removing his hand from her arm and rubbing his face. He suddenly seemed tired, but Skye had to admit she was being pretty exhausting. “I know you trust him; trust him enough to believe that he’s capable of forming his own thoughts.”

Tugging on a lock of her hair, Mack turned to walk out of the kitchen. After a brief hesitation Skye began to follow. Who was this guy? They had always been friendly enough, but now he was basically the love guru.

“So what explanation do you think the council would hate more,” Skye called after him flippantly, heading to the kitchen door. She had a big mess to clean up, but the sudden clarity from Mack’s explanation had her feeling good about it. “Alien mind control, or just plain old fashioned love for--”

She walked out of the doorway, nearly bumping into Mack, who had stopped walking.

“Skye. A word?” Coulson stood on the other side of the doorway. If Skye had to guess the emotion on his face, she would say something like '10 percent anger, 15 percent embarrassment, 5 percent curiosity and the rest percent impassive resting robot mode.' In fact, scratch the rest, she was projecting. One hundred percent impassive resting robot mode.

Eyes wide, she looked up to Mack who had begun to open his blue prints.

“I’ve got to get to work on this, if you approve, Agent Johnson,” he murmured, and Skye narrowed her eyes.

“Yes, Agent Mackenzie, you’re free to go tinker with your monkey,” she retorted, and Coulson looked at her, almost affronted. “It’s not a euphemism, he’s--” She gestured to Mack, but the man was practically bolting down the hallway. “Nevermind. You wanted to talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may actually know how I'm going to end this now, yaaay! Haha, or not, but I'm at least closer now than I was when this was just sitting idle in my docs. Probably just one chapter to go, to be posted...eventually.


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